i'm in here
by itssupernaturall
Summary: "She was back to square one: nothing but some wannabe. No one seemed to remember – or care – that she had been Blair Waldorf. Everyone eas thinking the words she'd thought about everyone else so many times: not good enough, trying too hard, fake, desperate, needy, social climber."
1. Chapter 1

She was alone. She didn't have anyone to talk to, anyone who cared. Occasionally, she would pass some of her old friends on the street, and they didn't even stop to talk to her. The people who had been her best friends were now nothing but memories. She could put on a smile for her family and whenever she was at work, but the smile was fake. No, she wasn't happy.

Not even close.

She lived alone, hating the solitude. She wanted a husband, a roommate, a friend, _something. _

But, no, she didn't have a friend, a husband, a roommate. She used to have friends; she used to be Blair Waldorf. She didn't know who was she was anymore, she was simply a pretty face of the Upper East Side. She worked for her mother's company, ran it, actually. She made good money, and was pleased for that. If nothing else, since she was rich, she was invited to parties.

Sure, she may be alone in a crowded room whenever she attended the galas, but it was better than being alone in an empty room, that much was for sure.

She saw Serena at a gala last week. Serena still looks wonderful as she always had, and she's _happy_. She isn't married, instead sleeping around like she had in high school. She saw Blair, standing alone at the bar, and didn't even smile, no recognition anywhere on her face. Instead, she started at her old best friend as if she were truly some social climber, stalking Serena van der Wooden and her posse.

Then, there was Nate. He had also attended the gala. When Blair had seen him, he had been chatting up his latest girlfriend, some snobby blonde. The blonde had pointed out that I was starting at him, and he looked me in the eyes. Any friendship we'd had was gone, that was clear in his eyes.

There was Dan, but there wasn't. He had been with Serena at another party, and he hadn't even looked at her. No, he just looked right past her, not even noticing she was there, hoping for someone to notice her.

Chuck was the worst. She still loved him; she could never _not_ love him. After he'd denied getting back with her in Monte Carlo, she had broke. That was when she ran as far as she could, shutting herself out from everything and everyone. When she had put herself back together enough to show her face in the public, no one cared anymore. Not even Chuck. She'd seen him once in the past year, at some event in late December. He had acknowledged her, though, unlike anyone else. She thinks she saw the beginning of a smile playing on his lips, but she may have imagined it.

She was getting ready for another party, dressing in a simple dress. To be honest, she didn't even know what the party was or who it was for, all she knew is the second she had received the letter about an upcoming event at the Oak Room, she had picked out a dress and styled her hair.

She was back to square one: nothing but some wannabe. No one seemed to remember – or care – that she had been Blair Waldorf. Everyone who looked at her gave her the judging stare she had become so good at. They all were thinking the words she'd thought about everyone else so many times: not good enough, trying too hard, fake, desperate, needy, social climber.

It was like everyone had developed amnesia and forgot that she was _Blair Waldorf… _or, was she? It seemed like she was a different person. She was suddenly afraid to talk to these people she once ruled, afraid they might judge her. She didn't dare talk to anyone, another than the occasional waiter.

"Smile," she muttered, reminding herself to do something that had – at one point – been so simple.

Looking in the mirror, she could easily tell that the smile was forced. Her eyes didn't match the expression on her face. Her once twinkling brown eyes were dull and boring, void of emotion. She appeared skinner, paler. Her porcelain skin was now grayish, a disgusting color. Her lips were also gray, under her red lipstick. She wasn't Blair Waldorf anymore, even though she was.

She _tried _to be confident. She wanted to march into the Oak Room and take her status of Blair Waldorf back. Only, she couldn't. She wanted to, but she _couldn't, _and she honestly didn't know why.

She checked her phone out of habit. Of course she had no messages, she was used to it. She still had every number of her old friends saved in her phone, but she was too afraid to text them.

She was Blair Waldorf, but she wasn't. To be quite honest, she didn't know who she was anymore.

.

Familiar and unfamiliar, smiling faces floated around her later that evening as she stood alone. She was over by the bar that had become her comfort – she didn't drink anything, she just liked looking like she was _doing _something other than watching everyone and reminiscing on her teenager years.

"I bet you couldn't find a girl here, they're all too snobby," some girl next to me jokes in a light voice.

The guy next to her rolled his eyes, commenting on how _she _was snobby, to which she slaps his arm playfully. She wasn't sure who they were. She didn't know whether they were dating, best friends, exes, perhaps even brother and sister. They were both happy, with huge _real _smiles on their faces.

"Remember when you were in love with Blair Waldorf?" As she speaks, she drawls Blair's name, as if teasing. Blair looks away, completely turning away from the pair. Tears burned in her eyes, coming out of seemingly nowhere. Was it because they said it as a joke, or because they didn't realize Blair was sitting right next to them?

The guy laughs along with the girl, a musical sound that was now foreign to Blair. A single tear escapes Blair's eyes and runs down her blushed cheeks. Yes, she's embarrassed and humiliated. Couldn't they see the girl they were laughing at was sitting not three feet away from them?

"What even happened to her?" It's the guy, a small giddy, joking sound still evident in his voice.

"No one knows," she says, her tone suddenly becoming more sullen (maybe Blair's just imagining that).

"Does she still live in Manhattan?" Blair wants to turn around and pounce on the guy, screaming that _she's _Blair Waldorf. Even though she never would, she wonders if he'd even recognize her if she turned around.

"I think so," the girl replies. "It's rumored that she still attends events like these sometimes."

After that, Blair can't take it anymore, so she promptly gets up and stalks off towards the bathroom, not letting the pair see her face. She'd never felt as small, invisible as she did in that moment. It hurts so bad that it takes all of the strength Blair has to not get on the floor and weep.

"Hey," someone calls from behind her. She ignores the person; what are the changes they were talking to her?

"Blair Waldorf?"

She freezes. She doesn't know what to do; she's been invisible for so long now. She tries to compose herself quickly, taking a shaky breath before turning around to face whoever had dare said her name. Whoever this person was had courage – no one wanted to be seen talking to Blair Waldorf, it was like social suicide.

The person is an older man, maybe around forty or something. He has a camera around his neck like a necklace, and he has that star struck look in his eyes. He must be the paparazzi, but Blair didn't care, she was no better than them at this moment. She wonders why he's looking at her like that: surely he's heard about her isolation from everyone, her downward spiral?

"Yes?" she says, surprised to find a trace of confidence in her tone. Maybe the old Blair was in there somewhere.

"You're back?" The confusion and awe in his Blair's voice makes her want to believe that he's genuine, that this isn't some prank someone was pulling on her to make her look like an idiot.

"I've been back for the past year," she says calmly, not letting her guard down for even a second.

"You have? I haven't seen you around," he states. She looks around the room quickly, wondering if anyone was watching the encounter. She isn't surprised to see that no one is, no one _cares._

"I've been… lying low," Blair lies. The truth? She's been practically _begging _to get noticed, everywhere she went. Not that this man needed to know any of that, especially if this was a sick prank.

"I see," he says, nodding. "Well, are you back now? Back to being Blair Waldorf," he clarifies after he sees the confusion in her eyes. He seems like he's doing this out of true interest, and Blair wonders if it's possible that this man is actually naïve enough not to know the truth.

She grasps for confidence, needing it in this moment. It's high school again, and she's talking to a teacher. She does what she does best and takes a deep breath before composing herself, the scared, sad look on her face replaced with a cool one. She cocks an eyebrow before she says, "Of course."

The man snaps her picture quickly before he retreats and goes off into the crowd. Blair doesn't know what to feel (it's been over a year since an encounter with someone not from work or her family). She feels overwhelmed, that much she _knows. _She still partly believes this was a joke, set up to make her look stupid.

She's also flattered, but she's mostly upset. She's upset because – for a moment there – she _was _back in high school, where she was queen. Where everyone looked up to her, not down on her.

Of course, the second her confidence has returned, it's vanished. She feels like breaking down again, so she decides to go into the bathroom, where she can easily pretend she has someone out in the main room waiting for her. She can pretend, maybe, if only for a minute, that Serena is still her best friend, and maybe she's even married to Chuck, and they have to get home to their kids. Maybe Nate is also her friend, and he spilt something on her new dress, which is why she's in the bathroom. Maybe Serena will embrace her tightly before she gets into a limo and going back to her penthouse. Maybe her phone won't be blank and empty, but full of texts.

She can pretend that, but she knows it'll never happen. The fantasies are nice to hold onto, though.

Before she steps into the bathroom, she catches sight of the man who had spoken to her making his way across the floor. Not three seconds later, he's handing the camera to none other than Chuck Bass, who smiles at whatever image he was looking at. Surely it wasn't the one of her. Chuck then hands the man some money, before handing the camera back. The man walks off, a satisfied grin on his face.

Was it possible Chuck had paid the guy to do this? She should be furious, angry that it _was _a joke, but she isn't. The smile on Chuck's face had been real, genuine. Maybe it hadn't even been of her. It could've been of something else entirely, she could be getting somewhat happy over nothing at all.

But, then, Chuck's gaze catches hers. The second he looks at her, she's frozen to the ground.

For a moment, they simply stare at each other. She doesn't know what to do, so she does nothing. Not a beat later, Chuck smiles at her. This time, she knows she isn't imagining it. It's not a teasing or an evil smile, it's a warm one. One with actual emotion behind it. One that shows maybe he still cares.

* * *

**_So... how was it? I know it seems like I love to torture Blair, but I promise I can write fluff, hehe. I just tend to write stories depending on my mood, so. Thank you for all of the reviews on my last story, and please review this one, too! Should I keep this as a o/s, or turn this into my first multi-chapter fic? Tell me in a review! :)_  
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	2. Chapter 2

_It was Blair Waldorf's freshman year at Constance. She walked into the school next to her best friend, Serena van der Woodsen. On her other side was Nate Archibald, her perfect boyfriend. She was clutching his hand as she listened to Serena babble about how nervous she was to meet her teachers. Blair assured her that her teachers would _love _her (everyone in the world did). Nate wasn't listening to Blair and Serena, instead distracted by Chuck Bass, who was telling Nate something that was apparently pretty funny to Nate. It was the perfect entrance to a perfect school year. _

_ They were perfect, everything was perfect. I'd always be like this, Blair was sure of it. She couldn't imagine it any other way. It was impossible to imagine walking into school without her closest friends by her sides._

_ At lunch, before Blair could reach Serena, a girl stopped Blair. Not recognizing the girl, Blair raised her eyebrows. _

_ "Who are you?" Honestly, Blair didn't really care who the girl was, she just wanted to sit down next to Serena and find Nate and tell them all about the first half of her day. Blair was in a rarely good mood, and she didn't need some social-climbing freak to ruin it by following her around. _

_ "Kristen Fray," she introduces. "I'm… uh… do you think I could maybe sit with you at lunch? We have French together, and you seemed to really understand it, so maybe you could tutor me – "_

_ "Sorry," Blair said, not actually sorry in the least, "I already have enough friends. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and find them." Blair tries shoving past the girl, but Kristen steps in front of Blair, blocking her from reaching the steps where Blair could see her best friend sitting. _

_ "Serena van der Woodsen?" Kristen asks rhetorically, and then scoffs. "Please, you two are total opposites; that friendship has been doomed from the start." Blair tries to interject, but Kristen is continuing. "Nate Archibald? Don't even get me started on that, he's totally not even into you. Chuck _Bass? _That's cute, sweetie. Just face it, you don't have anyone who qualifies as a "true friend" right now, you could use me. Keep these friends, and you'll end up alone in four years, whenever high school is over. You won't hear from any of them again. You know I'm right," she adds. _

_ Blair merely laughs, replying, "My friends are the best friends ever, and we'll always be in touch. You're obviously new to the Upper East Side; we don't just dump our friends after high school here: we go to college together, live together, go to parties together, rule Manhattan together."_

_ "You're right, we don't have to worry about it for a while," Kristen replies, to something unspoken. Even though Blair would never dare express her fear for drifting apart from her friends after school, maybe she wasn't as good at hiding the emotion in her eyes as she had thought. _

_ "I don't know what you mean, but I don't care. You obviously don't realize who you're talking to. Now," Blair says, pushing past the girl once more, "I'm going to my friends and tell them all about this encounter, and you may watch how they laugh and agree that you're_ crazy_ if you'd like."_

_._

Blair never told her friends about the stupid encounter, which proved to be somewhat right: her timing had been a few years off, but Blair was still alone, just like Kristen Fray had predicted when Blair was a freshman. Had it really been that obvious that Serena and Nate would dispose of her and her friends so easily? Blair hadn't seen it; obviously she hadn't been looking closely enough.

Blair wanted desperately to go back to that day, when everything had been so perfect and simple. She had a best friend and a boyfriend and Chuck Bass, whatever that had counted for when she was only fourteen.

Now, she didn't have a best friend. Serena hated her more than anyone she knew. Blair didn't have the courage to talk to her; she was too afraid of what Serena could do to her reputation (if she even still had one). She wanted to run into Serena's warm embrace and forget everything. Serena's hugs had that effect on people; to make you forget any pain, fears, tears. She craved that, needed that: a release from the pain she'd been holding onto for the past two years.

She didn't have Nate, either, though she wasn't really sure why she didn't. Before she left, she and Nate were perfectly fine. Blair wondered if it might be because she had hurt Nate's best friends too much, to the point where he, too, was hurt. She wanted to ask him why he was doing this, but she was too afraid. The old Blair Waldorf would've had no problem confronting Nate and asking him what the _hell _his problem was; he had no right to ignore her like this. He could help her, but he chose not to.

The most painful of the three, she didn't have Chuck Bass anymore. He and Blair hadn't been anything more than mere friends her freshman year, not once did she consider he would be the most painful to lose. If anything, she may have considered him the _easiest _to lose. Not once did it cross her mind back then that Chuck Bass was the love of her life, her soul mate. She couldn't think about Chuck without wanting to cry nowadays. She wasn't sure if they were happy tears or ones of pain at the moment; ever since last week at the Oak Room, she wasn't sure exactly _what _to think in regards to Chuck. All she knew was that she wanted to touch him, to kiss him. She wanted to go back to being Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck. She was tired of being strangers.

She was just thankful for Waldorf Designs. Even though she didn't have friends at work, people still looked up to her. Not as a person, but as the head of Waldorf Designs. Someone would have to be insane to want to be Blair Waldorf, to be as alone as she was. Without her work, she didn't know what she'd be. Her work was the only reason people still knew her name, the only reason she was still invited to galas. People around the world were interested in who ran Waldorf Designs, but only as a designer. No one cared enough to take Blair in and listen to her spill all of her problems. Why would they? They only cared about her company, as expected. Why would a bunch of famous designers be interested in the _girl_ who _ran _the company?

Suddenly, Blair is snapped back into reality by her elevator opening. Before she can assume it's a maid or someone delivering something to her, Chuck Bass is stepping into her penthouse.

Blair doesn't know what to do. She feels insecure and undressed in that moment, not sure if she'd even put on make-up this morning. She _knew _that her hair wasn't done, and she was still in what she wore to bed. She realizes she feels like some insecure little teenage, scared of what her peers may think of her. Not knowing what to do, Blair stares at Chuck, waiting for him to make a move.

"Blair," he breathes, as if he's relieved to see her, as if he's been waiting to see her. She's not really able to rationally think right now; she's not exactly used to having to be social with someone other than a coworker. It wasn't supposed to be like this, that much she knew. Blair Waldorf was always supposed to know what to say, especially to Chuck Bass. She couldn't be _that _different from the Blair from high school, could she? Her wits must be in there somewhere.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here," Chuck says with a small laugh. It's obvious he's just as nervous as she is. "The truth is… uh… I don't really know. I've been pacing outside this building for an hour, and… I guess I just needed to see you." He sounds so confused and on edge, like he's regretting coming up here and ready to bolt out the door, and let things go back to how they've been.

"Well, I'm right here," Blair replies, surprised she's found her voice. Her voice is high and tight, and she winces as she realizes how she must look and sound to her. Instead of being repulsed, Chuck smiles weakly at her, sitting down on the couch opposite hers. Blair was reclined on the couch next to the window, so she could stare out the window at the sun, admiring its beauty.

"How have you been?" Chuck foolishly asks.

Blair almost replies with the truth, but realizes that he doesn't want to hear the truth. No, he wants to hear that she's been perfect as always. So, she forces a smile, and says, "I've been fine."

"I know that's a lie," Chuck counters. She can't brag that he knows her well; everyone knows Blair was anything but fine. Everyone knew, but no one cared; which is why she still couldn't believe Chuck was sitting her, talking to her. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that he was here, close enough to touch.

"No, it's not," Blair lies. She doesn't want to push him away by being too clingy and telling him how she really _isn't _fine. She doesn't want to scare him off, so she continues, "Honestly. I haven't been too bad, Chuck. A little solitude is good for all of us," she says, ignoring the tears forming in her eyes.

Chuck looks as if he's going to press it further, but decides against it. Instead he says, "I need some answers, Blair." He takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. "Why did you run away?"

Blair doesn't want to answer him. There is no good excuse for what she did. He'll just consider her weak, and wonder why he wasted his time on her. She was, after all, simply a lost cause.

But, she has to answer him. She may lose him, but he deserves to know the truth. It's been two years since she left; long enough to tell him how much of a coward Blair Waldorf really was.

"After your harsh rejection in Monte Carlo, I didn't know what to do. Serena and I were in a fight, Dan was most likely _furious _that I had chosen you… I had no one to go back to in New York. So, I went to Paris. I stayed under the radar… I didn't want anyone to know where I was. I was planning on staying in Paris forever, until my mother called and told me to get back here. I wanted to run Waldorf Designs, and she needed me to do it. I… I had been out of contact with everyone for a year. During that year… I changed.

"I became more like one of my minions. I was suddenly afraid to be Blair Waldorf. I wasn't used to rejection, so it made me think that there had to be something wrong with me. I searched for what was wrong with me, and only came up with one thing: me. So, I changed, I guess.

"When I came back here, I was too afraid to talk to you or Serena or Dan or anyone else, so I didn't. I just went to work and came back here to eat ice cream and watch movies. When I started going back to galas, I was still too scared to talk to any of my old friends. I was in touch with my mom, but that was it.

"I just… had no one. I didn't – I _don't – _have any friends, anyone who cares about me." Blair rubs her eyes, trying to catch her tears. She laughs once, realized how pathetic she must sound. She wasn't supposed to open up to him like that; he didn't care. She doubted he had come over here to listen to her talk and cry and complain about how she wasn't herself anymore. It was _completely_ out of character for Blair Waldorf to say what she had just said, so she shamefully looks down at her lap.

"Blair." Chuck leans over across the couch, grabbing one of her hands. "You still have me. I was terrible to you back in Monte Carlo, but I never meant to cause _this_. I've felt responsible for this ever since you left, and it's been haunting me; the memory of how you used to be."

"No," she says firmly. "This isn't your fault. _I _was the one who ran away, and running makes you weak."

Chuck doesn't know what to say, that much is obvious. He's still holding her hand, though. His touch sends electric jolts all throughout her body; she really wishes he'd never let go.

"You're here now," Chuck muses. "We can start over, Blair. Reign back in your fans and run the Upper East Side, together. You have nothing to be afraid of." He says the last part softly, soothingly.

"I can't," Blair says, her voice cracking.

"Why not?"

"I… I just can't." Blair pushes off of the couch, the hand that Chuck had been holding warm. She wants to explain to him that she doesn't even know if she _has _him right now. Even if she does, she doesn't have anyone else. She _needs _someone else; she needs more than just him. Of course, him showing up five minutes ago, suddenly caring about her, doesn't exactly qualify him as a friend. She wouldn't say this to him, though; if she told him how skeptical she really was, she might make him mad. She didn't want to risk upsetting him, making him leave and never look back.

"You're scared," Chuck observes. "You don't need to be. I can talk to Serena and Nathaniel, and it doesn't matter what Humphrey thinks. We can get everything back to how it used to be."

"How?" Blair is skeptical, raising an eyebrow.

"Come with me tonight. There's a gala tonight… Nate and Serena will be there for sure, and I'm almost positive Humphrey will, too, if you insist on speaking with him. We can go together; I won't leave your side." His words are so honest, so warm, Blair finds herself accepting his offer.

"I'll pick you up at five," Chuck says, getting off of the couch and picking her hand back up, kissing it. "We can talk more later, but for right now we need to focus on getting you back to your old self."

She's agreeing, telling him she'll put on her brave face tonight. She's not sure how, but she'll try. Chuck and Blair will go to the gala together, like they were meant to. She'll talk to Serena and Nate and maybe even Dan and she'll also have strangers wishing they were her like they always had. She's not sure where this confidence is coming from, but she isn't complaining. She used to have this confidence all the time.

She finds that she is actually _excited _for tonight. She's nervous as hell, but she's not; she's happy with the knowledge she might become Blair Waldorf again. She smiles, then. It's not forced, it's not fake.

* * *

**Thank you for all of the reviews on the last chapter, I love you guys so much! Next up: more angst, Serena, Nate, Dan, and a kiss...?**


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